“No.”
“Why?”
“Because hurting someone back wasn't going to make the situation safer.”
She thought about that.
Then asked, “Were you scared?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened.
“But you're a police officer.”
He smiled gently.
“Police officers get scared too.”
She considered this surprising information.
Then climbed onto his lap.
“What did you do?”
“I stayed calm and asked for help.”
“Did somebody help?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Good.”
Daniel kissed the top of her head.
Then she asked, “Are you still scared?”
He looked toward Natalie in the kitchen.
She smiled at him.
Daniel looked back at his daughter.
“Not the same way.”
The little girl nodded.
Then returned to her book.
For her, the matter was settled.
For Daniel, the moment remained important.
He had told his daughter the truth without making fear shameful.
He had not transformed himself into an invincible hero.
He had simply been her father.
And that was enough.
On the fifth anniversary of the Riverside investigation, the city held a community meeting reviewing the long-term reforms implemented after the corruption scandal.
Daniel attended with Natalie.
The auditorium was full.
Some residents spoke positively about changes.
Others criticized unresolved problems.
Several demanded faster complaint investigations.
A woman described difficulty obtaining records concerning a family member's arrest.
A young man questioned whether certain disciplinary policies were strong enough.
The meeting was uncomfortable.
At times tense.
Daniel considered that a good thing.
Accountability was not supposed to be comfortable.
It was supposed to be real.
Afterward, he spoke with several residents.
Then an elderly woman approached.
Evelyn Brooks.
Her silver hair was now almost entirely white.
She walked with a cane.
But her smile was as sharp as ever.
“Investigator Carter.”
Daniel laughed.
“Mrs. Brooks.”
She hugged him.
“How's that baby?”
“Not a baby anymore. She's six.”
Evelyn gasped.
“Six?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Lord have mercy.”
Daniel smiled.
“How have you been?”
“Still making trouble.”
“I'd expect nothing less.”
She laughed.
Then grew serious.
“You know, people keep telling me the department has changed.”
Daniel nodded.
“Some things have.”
“Not everything.”
“No.”
She studied him.
“Good answer.”
Daniel smiled faintly.
Evelyn touched his arm.
“The important thing is that we're allowed to keep asking.”
He nodded.
“Yes, ma'am.”
She smiled.
“Your father would be proud.”
Daniel looked down.
He had heard those words many times.
But they still mattered.
“Thank you.”
Across the auditorium, Margaret Wilson approached.
She had become an advocate for families whose loved ones died or suffered serious medical emergencies in custody.